Blue
by hungry hobo
Summary: It turns out to be her fault anyways. She never quite learned how to forget.


It turns out to be her fault anyways.

She never quite learned how to forget.

...

She closes her eyes and dreams red and blue. It's an ugly combination she can't get rid of, stamped beneath her eyelids.

It always starts the same, at a canyon, past the river, where she fell and broke; the place where Cloud gets blamed and everyone ignores her foolishness. She thinks that maybe losing her heart is the price she pays for never reaching out to him. When she finally does he's lost his heart (to a lily).

The dream shifts and grows trees and wooden houses and a strong, strong back. The dream becomes Zack Fair.

The town drowns in flames and her mouth overflows with ash. She screams hatred and his blue eyes are the last thing she sees before waking.

Eyes unnatural, impossible, and soft.

Soft soft soft.

...

Denzel has a nightmare and wakes up reaching for her. Marlene clutches her apron and hangs tight to Denzel's hand.

Tifa is not the only one who remembers running and panic and fear. She smoothes his hair back and wipes away traces of worry with a cool hand and warm smile.

They are family now.

She takes them into the kitchen, soft footsteps against old wooden floorboards. She bakes a small torte and warms them up with a cup of cocoa. At the table, Marlene slides onto her chair and rests her head against her chest. Tifa strokes Denzel's hair back and whispers fairytales and love stories while dark ink still taints the outside and sky.

The dingy light bulb hanging above them slightly swings to the rhythm of her voice and they both fall asleep beneath her sad eyes.

...

She used to dream of adventure, when she was younger. It was a desire that crushed her, the thing that darted everywhere, at the back of her mind and below her feet. It was her first reason to stretch her legs and runrunrun.

Too bad she didn't run fast enough to keep up, catch up, stopstopstop (Flames spread faster than she could've ever run).

Her heart breaks a second time because when she finds it, it costs everything (home, friends, love).

...

Zack Fair haunts her. Her dreams drown her in ash and his memory tastes like iron and wine.

The first time they meet she's so, so eager.

_Are you one of the SOLDIER people who've come to investigate? Do you know Cloud Strife? _

Dressed ridiculously, he showered her with charm and smiles. Loud voice and all hand gestures he makes her laugh and smile, makes the feeling last in her chest seven years after. She couldn't help but push him away when he came running (too late, too wrong, not blond).

Tragique, tragico, tragictragictragic like a paperback novel and torn photos.

And darkness swallows up his back, her dream, her memory.

...

She feels useless, when Cloud wanders off, about holding a household. Beneath shadows and empty skies, doubt creeps up her back and down her shoulders. He comes home three weeks late, somber and silent. The only thing to do is offer a quiet smile and a shot of whiskey. His heavy footsteps fill the room and battle the permeated silence.

He doesn't bother saying anything and gives a nod of thanks before heading to bed. Tifa thinks it would be better to feel anger or disappointment instead of the resignation that settles over her. A glass breaks and she is surprised to see crimson against scarred porcelain.

She considers, at the back of her mind, near towers of flames and strong backs and falling flowers, late at night, that maybe _she_ would have been better at this. That friend who wilted too soon, her petals stained ruby red, drowned in blue.

Her eyes drown in blue and she dreams and dreams and dreams.

She's getting tired of waking.

...

Tifa finds the sea, Costa del Sol. Coast of the Sun.

It folds and folds and unfolds into soft, natural, clear blue; which brings to mind unnatural, impossible, soft Zack Fair.

Her two children, Marlene and Denzel, chase away the sadness that engulfs her with smiles basked in gold and sandy waving hands, but ghosts settle beside her and sand burns her feet.

She pauses a moment before deciding it's okay.

Old friends and old dreams and her children by her side, with toes sunk deep in wet sand, leaves her smiling. Towers of flames and strong backs and falling flowers, drowning in fire get pressed down into an album of the past.

The strong back of a ghost settles against her.

The waves lick her legs and the sun warms her back through blue eyes and a transparent love.


End file.
